“A year went by. By the time I got around to that checkup, I had severe pelvic inflammatory disease. There was scarring. I can never have children of my own.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
He drew her into his arms, whispered all the right words, and caressed her until she seemed to relax, wishing he could do the same. Unfortunately, his tension had just begun.
He had fallen in love with Chelsie because she wanted nothing from him. Because she seemed to care for him unconditionally. Because unlike Deidre and his mother, Chelsie wanted Griff the man, not what he could give her. Or so he had thought.
She said she loved both him and Alix. Under ordinary circumstances, those would be the exact words he would want to hear from any woman he contemplated spending the rest of his life with. Though Alix was her niece and Chelsie would always play a role in her life, Griff had custody. Alix was a part of his life on a daily basis. Forever. The woman he loved had to love her, too. Had to want a little girl in her life.
But Chelsie couldn’t have children. And here he was, a man with a child, a ready-made family she could call her own. He couldn’t deny that the cynic in him lived on, created by women who’d used and betrayed him in the past. Had Chelsie fallen in love with the notion of family that he and Alix offered?
She’d said as much herself. Family is a precious gift. You’ve both given me so much. He didn’t believe Chelsie would deliberately use them to achieve something she couldn’t have on her own. But she hadn’t told him the facts up front, not even after they’d made love. Why not? Unless she, too, wanted something from him and was afraid of losing it by revealing all. Consciously or unconsciously, the truth remained, and so did his doubts.
“I love you,” she murmured.
Though he held her in his arms and brushed a kiss against her temple, Griff remained silent.
A few uncomfortable minutes later, he pulled away and stood.
“Griff?”
“I’ve got to get back to Alix.”
She blinked, pain flashing in her eyes for a millisecond before her expression changed to one of acceptance. Her mind had obviously assessed and discounted the truth of his statement. She knew as well as he did that Alix was well cared for in his absence. There was no rush, except for his sudden need to be alone.
The wounded look passed so quickly, he thought he’d been mistaken. The twisting in his gut told him otherwise. Before she banked the emotion, her vulnerability had shown plainly on her face. “Will you be all right?” he asked.
She pulled the lapels of her robe together, keeping her hands at her throat “Of course.”
The strain between them, the distance that hadn’t been there earlier, settled on his shoulders. He’d caused the tension. He could easily rectify matters. Two steps forward, a touch, and Chelsie would be in his arms.
She brushed past him to open the door. The soft scent of the bubble bath lingered in the air. Just two steps. It might as well have been two miles. He laid a hand on her cheek.
“ ‘Bye, Griff.” Despite her firm tone, he caught the sheen of moisture in her eyes and the way she’d locked her jaw to keep any emotions from showing on her face.
He swallowed hard. “I just need some time.”
She shrugged. He hadn’t taken half a step into the hallway when the door shut behind him. He waited until he heard the turning of the dead bolt and the rattle of the chain on the door. The sounds of Chelsie closing him out of her life. Only then did he head for the bank of elevators, alone.
* * *
Coming to work hadn’t been easy. Trying to deal with Griff had been even more of a trial. Looking at him hurt. Being in the same room but not being close to him hurt even more.
Every day business between them suffered as a result. Still, they owed their clients, including Amanda, their best. “Just make sure the judge grants the restraining order immediately,” Chelsie said. “I’ll handle things here.”
“No problem.” Griff picked up a stack of files and placed them in his briefcase without once meeting her gaze.
She pushed aside the waves of nausea and anxiety and kept herself busy instead. A few more minutes and she’d be alone. No more pretense, no more pretending it didn’t hurt.
Stepping outside his office, she poured two cups of coffee from the pot in the reception area before returning to face him. “Here. It’s decaf.”
He looked up and graced her with a scowl, the first true sign of recognition he’d given her all morning. “You’re wound so tight you’ll explode at the slightest problem,” she explained. “Besides, I won’t watch you overdose on caffeine.”
He grunted in response. Chelsie sighed. Ignoring the real problem wouldn’t solve anything, but she’d promised herself she’d try. For his sake, she had to do her best. After all, she understood. He needed time, so she’d give him time. Even if it turned out to be forever.
“You’d better get going or you’ll be late.” She handed him Amanda Sutton’s case file.
“Thanks.” Without glancing in her direction, he stuffed the papers in his briefcase and walked out.